How does one become
A poet the Master asked.
By ignoring the stream's babbling
And the willow's mumbles?
The Acolyte replied
No!
Answered the Master (a stream)
By paying no attention to
The wind's folly
But the newly minted poet
Was already chasing the moon
Across a drunken horizon
Shall the poet speak
Of suffering
Asked the Acolyte
To the Master at
His opium pipe
How do I capture
The poem asked
The Acolyte
Like packing the bag
of an unwelcome guest
The Master rejoined
But I'm not going anywhere
Said the Acolyte
The Master frowned
What is the purpose of the Poet
Asked the Acolyte
Silence.
I am attempting to access
Your bank account
Said the Master.
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